Gasps rippled through the crowd as Sebastian's other hand relieved Thornmaker of the broken spear shaft. The vampirespun it once, testing its weight, before deliberately placing it back in the warrior's grip.
"Again?" he offered, stepping back with a mocking bow. "Or have you seen enough of what I could do if I were truly the monster you believe me to be?"
Thornmaker's face flushed with a mixture of fury and humiliation. He attacked again, using the broken shaft as a staff rather than a spear. The change in weapon should have caught Sebastian off-guard, but he responded as if he'd anticipated the exact movement.
"Better," Sebastian acknowledged, evading with slightly more effort. "Adaptation suggests intelligence. A quality I wondered if you possessed."
For several minutes, they continued their strange dance; Thornmaker attacking with increasingly creative combinations, Sebastian evading with fluid grace that made his capabilities abundantly clear without ever striking back. The brass beneath his skin rippled with each movement, sometimes seeming to anticipate attacks before they were launched.
"You could have killed me six times now," Thornmaker observed during a brief pause, his breathing heavy while Sebastian remained unflustered.
"Seven, actually," Sebastian corrected. "You missed the moment when your guard dropped on your left side. A weakness in your stance I've noticed repeatedly." He gestured to Thornmaker's scarred shoulder. "Old injury? Never quite healed properly?"
Thornmaker's expression revealed the accuracy of this assessment. "If you're so superior, why not end this?"
"Because ending you proves nothing," Sebastian replied, his taunting tone giving way to something more honest. "Killing you would only confirm what you already believe, that I'm merely a predator playing at civilization."
He circled again, the metal beneath his skin flowing with hypnotic rhythm. "I could demonstrate exactly how many ways I could tear out your throat before you could even raise your weapon." His voice remained conversational, making the words all the more chilling. "I could show you precisely how your ancestors felt when facing my kind before we chose technological precision over natural power."
Thornmaker lunged forward with renewed determination, the broken shaft aimed at Sebastian's chest. This time, Sebastian didn't simply evade. He caught the weapon, twisted it from Thornmaker's grip, and used the warrior's momentum to send him sprawling across the ring.
Before Thornmaker could recover, Sebastian was above him, one knee pressed against the warrior's chest, hand hovering over his throat. His fingers extended like claws, poised above the pulse point where a single strike would end everything.
"Is this what you wanted to see?" Sebastian dropped his voice to a whisper that only Thornmaker could hear. "The monster beneath the veneer of civilization? The predator you're certain still controls everything I do?"
Thornmaker remained perfectly still, his eyes never wavering from Sebastian's face. To his credit, the warrior showed no fear, only grim acceptance of tactical reality.
"I could end this," Sebastian said, his voice carrying in the sudden silence. "I could end you. Right here. Right now." His fingers traced lightly over Thornmaker's throat, making the watching warriors tense. "It would be so very easy."
The power in that moment was intoxicating. Sebastian’s old instincts surged, the predatory satisfaction that had been engineered into every noble vampire. It was what his father had designed him for. A moment of complete dominance, of life and death held in perfect balance. A heartbeat away from fulfilling his purpose.
And yet.
"Then do it," Thornmaker challenged, refusing to look away. "Prove me right."
"That's just it," Sebastian replied, withdrawing his hand. "I won't." He rose fluidly, stepping back to give Thornmaker space. "Not just because it would prove nothing. Not just because it would validate everything you believe about my kind." He held held Thornmaker's gaze. "But because you deserve better than what our hatreds have made us. Because all of us deserve better."
The words surprised even Sebastian as they left his mouth. They weren't calculated to win political advantage or to manipulate the situation. They were simply true. It was perhaps the most honest thing he'd said since his transformation began. His father had spent decades teaching him that truth was merely a tool, to be wielded when useful and discarded when inconvenient. But this truth felt different. It felt like his own.
For several heartbeats, they remained locked in that tableau, predator and prey, enemy and ally, all definitions suddenly insufficient. Sebastian could sense Thornmaker's racing pulse, could smell the adrenaline coursing through the warrior's body.
"Enough." Boarstaff's command cut through the tension. "The challenge is answered."
Thornmaker rose slowly, dignity intact despite his defeat. He retrieved the broken pieces of his weapon, studying them before looking back at Sebastian.
"You could’ve killed me," he acknowledged.
"Many times over," Sebastian confirmed without boasting. "Just as you could have killed me if I were what you believe, merely brass and hunger without thought or choice."
"Why didn't you?" The question seemed forced from Thornmaker against his will.
"Because that's not who I'm choosing to be," Sebastian replied simply, the mocking aristocrat gone, replaced by something more authentic. "Because some choices matter more than proving superiority."
Boarstaff stepped between them, his presence somehow both barrier and bridge. "The challenge is answered," he announced to the gathered crowd. "Let that be enough for today."
As the spectators slowly dispersed, murmuring among themselves about what they had witnessed, Thornmaker gathered the remains of his spear. The warrior's pride remained intact despite his tactical defeat, if anything, his bearing seemed more dignified in acknowledgment of having faced death and survived.
"This changes nothing," he snapped, though the hostility in his tone had lessened.
